Heaven: The eye and the flower
by tallgeese
Summary: The story of Darcia, from his days of joy to his curse Needless to say, I've taken my time finishing it, but I WILL finish it!
1. Azure: Her eyes had captured the sky

This is my second official fiction here… and it's a good deal longer than my last piece. As usual it stars Darcia, because he's my favorite character to work with. I can't remember if Harmona's eyes are blue…well they are in this story so if you don't like it deal… I'm gonna try to create a back story involving Darcia, Harmona, Jagara, and Darcia's grandfather. Well, enough of a preface, shall I begin?

Chapter 1: Azure- her eyes had captured the sky

Darcia the fourth stood at last from the patch of grass where before he lay napping. The sticky atmosphere of a humid August clung resonantly to his figure, making his clothing seem of unbearable weight, and adding to the lilting drowsiness which he now savored. Ah, how he loved the sweet sensations of nature! Every perfumed fragrance carried to him on the gentle breeze seemed to invigorate him with a type of vitality he had never known before. The songs of the birds ran in synch with the chirping of the insects, creating an overwhelming symphony that for a moment overwhelmed him.

He was no longer a noble. For this sweet amount of time he had forgotten himself, his impossible obligations, and the crazy ambitions of his grandfather. No more was he troubled with the truth, or the myth (not a person he talked to knew for certain) of what it meant to be a transcended man. For it was here, in this meadow, and with the scents and sounds whose beauty could overwhelm even the most garnished of senses, that he would find her.

Indeed, she was his sweet savior. His goddess and muse, the lady whose plight so matched his own that he could feel at once at ease around her. Her flowing golden hair reflecting the sunlight and pouring it's brilliance over him. The voice, so delicate and wonderful! During the many conversations they would hold in this place he would feel an ephemeral vertigo, as if his every breath was tied to the words she spoke. At last, however, the one thing about her which captivated him so completely was the sparkling azure of her eyes.

The sky had always been a source of comfort for him. Never was he faced with so tremendous a burden that he could not instantly forget his sorrow by starring straight up into the endless blue of the heavens. It seemed to him that all the hope in the world lie up there, just beyond his grasp. Yet when first his eyes met with hers, he felt a certain closeness to it. As if all he would ever need for happiness would be to draw her into an embrace. To hold her against him for all eternity had become his greatest dream.

Darcia had become so consumed in these thoughts that he failed to hear her footsteps draw closer to him. His heart began to race as she outstretched her hand and touched his shoulder.

"Were you waiting long?" That voice again! Slowly Darcia turned, drawing in the vision of her. She wore a small grin, which failed to reveal to him any of her private thoughts, and her eyes bore that loving hue which took his breath away. He ran his hand through his hair, her presence suddenly enhancing the reality of where he was.

"I would gladly have waited an eternity longer." He said at last, a smile crossing his own face. She laughed softly at this, looking him over.

"Would I have been worth all that time?"

"For me," Darcia began, suddenly uncertain of his words, "A moment spent with you is paradise." He felt a quaint tremble run through his body, and he felt as though his chest could only barely contain the pounding of his heart. He didn't want to say such a thing, but something deep within him compelled it. These words, which had grown within him since first he had met her, were erupting forth.

"Darcia…" She began, but finished instead by wrapping her arms around him. Darcia felt frozen for an instant, the warmth of her embrace shocking him. With a deliberate haste he returned the embrace, feeling at once a sweeping bliss that far surpassed what he had known just a moment before.

"Harmona," He said her name slowly, looking down into her beautiful face, "I wish this time, this place, would remain as it is forever."

_Forever….._ the word seemed to cast a sinister echo into the distance, as if to serve as a warning of some great tragedy to come.

So concludes chapter 1, whadja think? I have some great ideas for this one, but if it sucked I can just let it die here…

Next Chapter: The old man and the flower maiden


	2. The old man and the flower maiden

**Chapter 2: The old man and the Flower Maiden**

That scent was stronger than ever! He simply had to see it. The young wolf dashed rapidly toward the entrance to the Noble's Keep, his footfalls kicking up the fresh dew from the lush grass along the path. He had been traveling for the past three days, and his gorgeous black fur was now matted with dirt and burs from the forests in the surrounding area. Ordinarily his inbred vanity would forbid him from showing his face in such a condition, but if his suspicion was correct than his joy would far outweigh his shame. He continued running, the distance between he and that marvelous scent was slowly closing, and a lustful excitement he'd never felt before was coursing through his veins.

As he neared the entrance, the lone sentry suddenly moved in front of him, regarding him with the cold indifference a man would give to a beast that was neither welcome, nor a threat. With a frustrated sigh the wolf pulled to a stop in front of him, knowing full well what he required. Instantaneously he stood erect, his original wolf form abandoned for the body of a human. He looked down at the gentle slope of his long fingers, and the long black robe he seemed always to picture himself in. His eyes were a beautiful green, which became all the more intense when complemented by the raven-black hair which flowed like water down to his shoulders. He knew that by human standards he was beautiful, but this brought him little joy. His mother had taught him the barbaric flaws of the human body, as well as a healthy respect for the elegance of a handsome wolf, and ever since he was young he found assuming a human appearance to be a disgusting endeavor.

"Very well then, Mr. Tenmei," the guard said, nodding his approval, "Lord Darcia has been waiting for you." Tenmei ignored him, pushing past the sentry and continuing his trek. He ran across the dank interior of the castle, through the rows of enigmatic murals which littered almost every wall, filled with their depictions of fantastic machines and beautiful landscapes. He remembered hearing from a servant that not even the nobles understood their meaning entirely, or something like that, as he had only been listening to ease the boredom he suffered whenever he was forced to come here. At any rate he declined to cast them even a passing glance today, and after a few more minutes of travel finally came to a stop before a magnificent glass cage.

Within the transparent casing was a beautiful woman, floating tranquilly in a fluid which Tenmei assumed to be water. He slowly stepped toward her, completely entranced by the familiar smell of lunar flowers which surrounded her. In her serene sleep she appeared no different than any of the other humans he had encountered. Her pink hair was cut rather short, with bangs long enough to conceal her closed eyes. She was abnormally slender, but this was the only thing that seemed different about her. She appeared to be a human of at least twenty years, yet she possessed the air of a newborn child, and carried the most delicious scent he had ever encountered. He stumbled toward her in a trancelike stupor, pressing his hands to the glass which entombed her as he stared with an awestruck expression. The emotions he was feeling seemed impossible to express.

"So you like her then, do you?" a hoarse whisper rose from behind him. He turned around, fangs bared, and looked upon the hideous countenance of the man behind him.

"Oh, it's you." Tenmei relaxed a little, turning away from the graying, wrinkled mess of a man that was Darcia II. "Aye, I don't know if I can describe how wonderful I find her." The old man smiled, increasing the number of wrinkles which vied for position on his ancient face. He stood before the young wolf as nothing more than an old man, his hunched posture now all that remained of his once noble stance. Despite himself, Tenmei felt sorry for him.

"She is the fleshly embodiment of a lunar flower," Darcia's voice was full of pride as he announced this, as though it were the single moment for which he'd lived his entire life, "My flower maiden, my guide to paradise!" It was all Tenmei could do to avert laughing. He never understood why so many humans, especially among the nobles, thought they could get into paradise. He should think their instincts would warn them of their folly. Paradise was created by and for the wolf, a fact that was well known to all who read the Book of the Moon. Yet today he was in good spirits, and not in the mood to shatter this decrepit noble's delusions of grandeur.

"That seems such a waste of a beautiful specimen like her, though" was all he said in reply.

"Oh?"

"Don't get me wrong, I've never really cared about paradise, nobles, or even lunar flowers. It's just that a tool as useful as this shouldn't be wasted on the likes of you." Tenmei said this in a very casual tone, with not a trace of insult in his voice. The old man furrowed his brow, his thoughts impossible to decipher.

"Do you think I will not reach paradise?"

"I wasn't gonna say it, but since you brought it up, no. I guarantee that if you try you're only reward will be misfortune." Although his narcissistic demeanor gave him a rather brash tongue, Tenmei had to admit that he had never been this frank to the old man before. He figured it must be the intoxicating aroma of the woman behind him, or his impatience for human fools.

Darcia II stood in silence for what seemed an eternity to Tenmei. He tapped his human foot impatiently, and debated submitting to the exhaustion which had suddenly taken root deep in his bones. He was so tired of dealing with the Darcia clan. The old man was insufferably arrogant, foul smelling, and an offense to every sense that Tenmei possessed. What little time he had spent around Darcia's grandson was certainly more tolerable, but last he heard that one had taken leave of his senses for some woman or another and would likely abandon his position as a noble. Either way they were the perfect example of why he hated humans, they were such melodramatic, foolhardy creatures.

"While it pains me to part with your science project," He said at last, losing his patience with the old man. "I'm terribly dirty, and I fear if I don't bathe soon my coat will lose its beautiful shine. I'll return on the night of the blood moon, in six months time. That was when you wanted my help right? Who knows, maybe you'll prove me wrong. Of course, should you manage to get into paradise you'll certainly make it a less appealing place." The old man continued his silent musings, so with a grin and a shrug Tenmei turned to leave.

Darcia II listened as the wolf's footsteps grew faint. Tears had stricken his withered eyes, and for the first time since he had completed her, he looked up at the flower maiden.

"Is it truly impossible, Cheza?" he asked, suddenly feeling the weight of his age, "Even if it is, can I abandon my plans? I am not long for this world, and even my six hundred years of life have not prepared me for the abyss of death. I must reach paradise. You understand, don't you? It is a matter of necessity." He walked over to his armchair, collapsing heavily into it. From within the glass, the flower maiden had begun to sing. The sweet melody served to ease his pain for a moment, and he slipped into an uneasy rest.


	3. Harmona and Jagara Disintegrating family...

**I havent had time to read through this section thoroughly for personal reasons. As a result it may not be as good as my past entries, but bear with it. I'll make up for it in the coming installments....**

****

**Chapter 3: Jagara and Harmona- Disintegrating** **family bonds**

"That's what they said, 'a treasure of the ancient world', sounds enticing, no?" The melodic voice of a young woman broke the all-consuming silence which had taken root between the three travelers. She passed one of her dainty hands through her flowing mass of golden hair before turning to face her companions.

They stood upon a large hill, under which the towering ruins of what may well have been a city, now unrecognizably desecrated by centuries of robbery and decay. The streets of cracked pavement spiraled about the half standing buildings, resulting in a complex labyrinth which would impress on any traveler a feeling of dread. Protruding from the center of this foreboding relic was a sepulchral castle. Any negative sentiment one might feel from the town itself would instantly be swallowed by the uncondensed mixture of terror and sorrow which perspired from every wall of this monstrous golem. It was as if the misfortune which destroyed its residents in those centuries past still lingered, waiting to infect anyone who stepped into its realm.

"Are you certain, sister? A strange emotion fills me whenever I look at this place." Another woman, her voice more gentle and cautious than the first, spoke at last. She was focused on the castle as she said these words, her soft blue eyes casting it a sympathetic glance.

"That's called excitement, Harmona dear; I imagine you're not used to it with that stuffy lifestyle you lead." Her sister's reply came in a friendly tone, but one could notice an icy expression cross her countenance.

"That's not what I-" Harmona began her retort, but was interrupted by a soft chuckle from the young man next to her.

"I was told that this was an important matter, but now I see it was just another of Jagara's charades." A soft smile crossed his lips, and he shot Jagara a patronizing look. She took a step backward in reply; a feint hurt expression on her face.

"Not you too, darling? I put a lot of thought into coming here you know." She pulled away a small scrap of paper which she had fastened to the sheath of her sword, and flattened it with her palm. "Apparently, some three hundred years ago, a nameless petty nobleman found an ancient machine buried deep within the earth. It was a vehicle which was designed to reach the stars if memory serves, anyway the nobleman got it into his head that if he repaired it he could ride it off to heaven and escape the end of the world. A lot of people believe the world is coming to an end, you could hardly tell by looking at it now. Back to the legend, before he could embark on his journey a plague came and wiped both he and his people off the face of the earth. Since then, the machine has remained in the center of his keep."

"Sounds like a groundless story to me." Darcia said simply. Jagara shrugged at this, her full lips curving into her most charming smile.

"Perhaps and what if it is? Every legend has a little truth to it, Darling, and finding the truth of the world is the meaning of life. Besides, it's not as if you have a more pressing engagement to attend." Darcia considered this for a moment. His grandfather's lapse of sanity certainly provided him with an endless amount of free time, but he would much rather spend it in that private hideaway where he had whiled away countless days before. He was going to reply, but there was no need. Jagara could guess what he was thinking; he would rather be alone with Harmona.

A surge of rage passed through Jagara's body, and she shot a quick glare in the direction of her sister. Yes, how she abhorred Harmona. Her darling sibling, identical in appearance but opposite in disposition, had become the object of her deepest hatred. Perhaps it was because she served as a mirror of truth, enhancing Jagara's every flaw with her subtle perfection. Harmona, who spoke volumes with silence; Harmona, the kind, she was all these things that Jagara was not. Worst of all, however, she was the infatuation of the last descendant of the Darcias. Of all her crimes, this last one was unforgivable.

Time and again she considered ridding herself of her. She spent a good portion of her time wondering exactly how her sister would react if she tried to strangle her. Would she writhe, kicking and biting as the life poured out of her? No. Jagara didn't doubt that she would simply stand there, with her usual smile, confident of her superiority until the final breath parted from her lips. It was because she knew this was how her sister would die that she did not kill her, for such an event would fail to abate her rage. She wanted Harmona broken in body and spirit, just to see her miserable for a moment would prove endlessly satisfying.

"Are you alright?" Harmona asked with her usual concern. How patronizing her kindness was! Jagara pushed her thoughts back into the deep recesses of her mind. Any trace of resentment vanished in an instant from her face.

"Why wouldn't I be, Harmona dear?"

Tenmei was completely enshrouded by darkness. In the end he could make out not a single shape or shadow regardless of how he strained his eyes. He didn't mind, this was how it always was with the white wolf. The ancient creature had for years resided in darkness, giving orders to his many followers while never making his face known to them.

"I can see why you wouldn't want the noble in paradise, but it's not like he can make it anyway. Why bother with any precautions?" Tenmei declared to the darkness. He waited for a moment, but carried on when he received no reply. "Honestly, you're the second old guy to give me the silent treatment in the past six hours. I find it offensive." Still no sound, save for the echo of his voice against the walls, could be heard.

"Regardless of what you say, I'm not gonna go betraying him until the coming of the blood moon ceremony. If I make an enemy of the Darcias too soon I'll end up getting ugly little bullet holes all over my beloved pristine body."


	4. Reaching for the stars

Wow, I only have two notes to make about this chapter. The first is that it's by far the longest in this story, and the second is that the relevance of it (particularly concerning the fallen noble and the space shuttle) won't be known 'till the end.

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**Chapter 4- Reaching for the stars: The keep of the fallen noble**

The remainder of the day they traveled in silence, not arriving at the city's gates until dusk had waned into night. Darcia peered into the abandoned roads of the town; which now glowed gently in the silver light of the full moon. This effect made the scenery so incredibly picturesque that for a moment the ominous foreboding of before had subsided, replaced with an almost perfect serenity.

He looked around for a moment longer before falling to his knees and resting. A quick glance at Harmona confirmed that the scenery had the same effect on her, and he would have liked to embrace her as they both looked onward. Naturally, he didn't bother to try, knowing that Jagara would stop him. Instead he let out a forlorn sigh and returned to his feet. Harmona looked up at him, seeming to guess his thought, and smiled gently, though she too did nothing.

"We shouldn't be stopping, dears." Jagara said at length, her voice a welcome break from the awkward silence that had formed. "Now that we're here we may as well keep going." They nodded in agreement.

"Indeed, it's better to waste as little time as possible on such a pointless crusade." Darcia interjected crossly, wishing silently that Jagara were not there.

"How very boorish, darling!" She grabbed him firmly by the arm and began pulling him forward. He looked at Harmona desperately, but she seemed to find the entire scene comical. Eventually he decided it would be a waste of time to resist, and passively allowed himself to be tugged along.

The night carried on in a taciturn fashion, on occasion interrupted by the short bursts of conversation among the three travelers. The scenery, consisting primarily of abandoned homes and businesses, lay still as death and as beautiful in the moonlight as a precious gem. Death was the more appropriate metaphor, since the night streets were only bare of the babbling lushes and common criminals one would normally find on a city night was because for a century past every resident of the town had been dead.

Darcia found a solemn nostalgia in the idea, although he had no idea why. He had never set foot in this city before, and he made it a point to avoid subjects such as mortality. It was likely the morose aura that hovered about the ruins he found familiar, for it reminded him of the words his father had said at some obscure time before his murder:

"_The Common man bears a terrible curse. He lives for but a moment, and it always ends before he learns of happiness. For us nobles, a more terrible fate lies. Our lives are long and full. We learn intimately of happiness, passion, and desire, but are forced to watch as they corrupt into sorrow, our lives themselves become terrible curses, and we are not blessed with death until we have drowned in despair."_

****This was the essence of his father's way of thinking. For that man, every light had a shadow, every day had a night, and there was absolutely no such thing as joy. Darcia had never understood him, for he felt the opposite: how could one not be happy in a world such as this? There was so much beauty to be found, all you needed to do was look.

"Do you lose yourself in thought often?" Harmona asked from behind him.

"What? No, I was just reminded of something." They now stood before the noble's castle, which stood as a prostrate shadow in the center of the city. On either side of its titanic doors was the carved face of a gargoyle, seeming to sneer in its grotesque fashion at the city around it. Under each face was a single word in a language Darcia wasn't familiar with: 'Emeth'.

"I see they wanted visitors to feel invited." Jagara said, staring at one of the gargoyles with disgust. "Well, here we are. Shall we plunder?"

The three of them pushed their shoulders against one of the doors, a sigh of stale air escaping from the room inside as it began to move. After a moment of mental preparation they entered, Jagara giggling excitedly as she took the lead. Absolute darkness greeted their entry, which only slightly surrendered to the beam of Darcia's flashlight. The room looked completely empty, either from lack of concern or of an earlier robbery, and they could find none of the pompous decorations or ornaments which were often favored by nobles.

"We'll find an ancient relic in a place like this?" Harmona frowned apprehensively at her sister, who seemed too taken aback to speak. The lackluster interior was obviously not what she had expected, and had obviously shattered her perfect confidence in their journey.

"Let's not think negatively, Harmona-dear. This is but one room in a large, unattractive castle." She said this with a mixture of hope and doubt, vehemently refusing to believe that she could possibly be wrong.

Unfortunately, further inspection of the building had proven no more fruitful. The first few chambers were inordinate pentagons, much like the first, each interconnected by a single, triangular hallway. Nothing changed between the rooms, save perhaps for the occasional bloodstain on a wall or the stench of a long rotted corpse, and if it weren't for the fact that they only traveled in one direction they might have feared becoming lost.

Finally, the monotonous procession of similar rooms was broken by a sudden fork in the last hallway. They now stood before two different paths, one of which was a wide hall adorned with gilded paint, and the other was abruptly ended with a second massive door.

"At last the plot thickens, so which was do we go, leader?" Darcia asked, although he knew he would be heading for the door. Something about it seemed irresistible to him, like it may contain some wonderful object, or answer a lingering question.

"I'd suggest we split up and explore both areas at once," Jagara began, glaring discreetly at Harmona. "But I imagine we would never stop arguing about how to do it. Why don't we go through the door? After all, it does seem to have a grip on you."

For a moment no one moved or spoke. Tension began to build in the group, and for a moment they exchanged glances. It was as if for just a second everyone had become aware of the blurred emotions Jagara felt toward Harmona, and then the realization subsided again before they could actually pay attention to it. The silence continued a while longer before they continued, and it could be noticed that Darcia had taken a place in their line between the two sisters.

Having at last buried the awkwardness of the past few minutes, it was a welcome relief to find that there may be something worthwhile in the coming room. While the door itself was plain as any other part of the castle, painted above it in bright gold was a small message:

_By day, tread not beyond these doors. May the enlightened mind come in darkness, and see clearly the future of man._

"What do you think it means?" Harmona inquired, hesitating for a moment.

"No need to simply speculate." Darcia replied.

"That's right, we're here, why ask when you can see? I knew you had a spine, darling!" They opened the door, taking not of the partially melted appearance of its hinges. They looked as though they had melted and cooled countless times since they were originally erected, and threatened to snap under the stress of maintaining the door.

The inside of the room was smoldering, almost unbearably so, and the black paint of the floor had become wet, sticking to their feet as they walked. Their breaths came in strained gulps, as the humid air was thick and heavy.

"Why is it so-..?" Jagara began to complain, but ceased as she looked upward. The ceiling was replaced with a thick glass, which had greatly magnified the sky above them. The moon had become a great, crater filled spectacle, filling up almost the entire sky through the magnifying glass. They gazed in awestruck wonder, seeing the moon with more beautiful detail than ever before.

For all the beauty the room brought to the night, it was also unbearable hot. This was no doubt a side effect of using glass for the roof. The meaning of the posted message on the door was now blatantly obvious; at night, this room was an astronomer's dream, by day the heat would be lethal.

"It's pretty, I suppose, but it's not what we came for." Jagara interjected, pulling Darcia's face down to her own. He stared at her dejectedly for a moment before speaking.

"The hall on the other end is most likely the noble's private quarters. I doubt we'll find a ship capable of soaring through the heavens in such a place."

"I realize that! I just can't stand being wrong. Honestly, what a disappointment!-Wait! Wasn't it Oakum, that noble from the west, who sacked this town? I bet he's the one who took it. Damn! I guess it really is beyond my reach!" Jagara spouted this hysterically, the frown on her face turning into a grimace of disappointment. She began pacing the room, growling in frustration and frowning at the moon above. The others watched with bemused silence before Harmona turned to Darcia.

"This room, the ship, the engraving on the door, what do you make of all of this?"

"It seems to me that this man was obsessed with space."

"Why? What could be so important up there that he would leave his kingdom to crumble?"

"The future..." Darcia stared again at the moon, feeling a strange revoltion for it suddenly.

"The future, huh?" Harmona followed his gaze, seeming to understand what he meant.

"He probably gave up on finding it on earth, and, like most people, he began to search for hope in the unknown." He thought of his grandfather as he spoke, the timid old man who was now so afraid of death that he became obsessed with paradise. Was he destined to a similar fate? Would he one day become so entangled in the past that he would disregard everything else? The thought made him shudder, but he knew how feasible it was. It was just as his father had once said: 'single mindedness runs in our family's blood.'

Their trip to the fallen city had soon become a memory, and in the years that would follow, Darcia would often remember the thought that went through his head that day. In truth, aside from being able to see Harmona, he had agreed to come along that day because he got an ominous feeling in the pit of his stomach. He had begun to fear that his grandfather's madness might change him as well.


	5. Madness at joy's end

Note: There have been two reasons for my lengthy absence from updating. The first being I wanted to finish outlining the plot, and the second being that I got no reviews. I'm done outlining(it'll be 15 chapters long) and I got a review…so now, without further ado: my fifth chapter(though it's sorta the rushed addition, lotsa school work right now, so there's a bit of an atmosphere change in the chapter, but I'll remedy it in chapter six)… Also, I did indeed get the lineage of the Darcia clan mixed up, which I'll remedy starting now. This novel's protagonist is Darcia III, his grandfather is the first. I apologize for the mistake.

Chapter 5: Madness at joy's end

Three months arrived and died away, each carrying with it a sorry indifference for Darcia. No longer did Darcia see fit to meet with Harmona, or to partake of any empty crusades. No more did he take not of the beauteous environment which surrounded him, and no more did he smile. The world had become a barren place for him, all the happiness he had once known, now seemed a hallow farce. For he had at last indulged his curiosity; the extent of his grandfathers madness was becoming clearer, and it was proving so tremendous a burden that he dared not seek company.

Several days after his return from the city of stars, that was when he had first taken note of the weathered books which now littered the floor of his grandfather's study. Darcia I had long since taken to seclusion, all but barricading himself in the basement laboratory where he continued his mysterious work. His whereabouts where inconsequential to his grandson, who found he could no longer tolerate the old man, but in his wake he'd left so many tomes of information that Darcia couldn't help but be swept into his planning as well.

Journals, books of astronomy, books of philosophy, and books of religious prophecy were everywhere, but study as he might, Darcia could see no connection between them. For the better part of a week he locked himself in their confines, reading until his temples throbbed and his eyes became bloodshot. It all seemed a prodigious puzzle. What connection could the transmutation of a flower into a woman have to the phases of the moon and paradise? It all seemed random, as though he had all but some crucial piece of information. Finally, in one of the journals, he found a clue:

_"When the end of the world draws nigh, the wolves shall be drawn to paradise. The wording is eloquent and cryptic, but I believe this to be the deepest prophecy of The Book of the Moon. Sadly, the world has yet to provide a maiden to guide them, and it is for this I now labor."_

His grandfather had scribbled this note in a journal entry dated fifty years earlier, three days before he began constructing Cheza, The name he had granted his 'flower maiden'. Was he trying to lead the wolves to paradise? What would such a feat accomplish? It seemed that even if there was a paradise, if it was made for wolves what place would man have to tread? These questions still seemed unresolved to Darcia, who reread the passage. He paused at the mention of a book.

"The book of the moon? Is that where the connection lies?" It was now clear to Darcia what the missing piece was: he needed the book of the moon.

Unfortunately, a careful inspection of the grounds proved fruitless, and after a month he gave up in despair. Chances were that the book was still in his grandfather's possession, and thus beyond his reach. The plans, there potential rewards, and their probable danger were lost to him. He found it infuriating, as though his ancestor's actions had somehow made him unclean. He feared he could now poison any he touched, though he had no logical reason to believe so. That was when he began his isolation. His time with Harmona seemed nothing more than a dream, and he was filled with bitter nostalgia for the days of his father.

Now he was content to spend his time at the family cemetery, a place which resonated with the same lilting despair which now so wholly consumed him. He stood in the cemetery's parched grass, concealing himself in the massive ornaments which served as tombstones, and struggled with himself. He longed for Harmona, but he knew not whether he even deserved to see her. Suppose his instincts were correct, and there was some imminent threat now bound to him. Could he endure it if Harmona was killed because of him?

"By lord Darcia's order, you aren't allowed here until the day of the blood moon." Darcia's musings were interrupted by the distant voice of Neeze, his family's retainer. He turned in its direction, finding the somewhat diminutive woman to be talking to a black wolf. "You said you would not return until that time."

"I know what I said! I'm the one who said it," The wolf interjected, his voice shrill and unpleasant, "and to be honest I could care less whether or not I see that old corpse. I'm here to see the woman." He cast a perturbed glance at Neeze, who regarded him dispassionately.

"By Lord Darcia's command, you are not to set foot here until the dawn of the blood moon." She repeated this line in her factual, almost robotic tone, averting her dark eyes from the wolf. He protested a bit more, but she turned and left, ignoring his banter. He growled loudly and had begun to trot off when he spied Darcia's slender form almost completely concealed by the cemetery's headstones. With a confident stride he approached him, assuming his human form before calling out:

"Well by my soul! If it isn't the more bearable Darcia. We've met once before, but I don't recall our being introduced. Call me Tenmei if you please." He ran one of his slender hands through his elegant raven hair as he introduced himself, trying to hide the disgust he felt at maintaining his human figure.

Darcia simply looked at him in reply. He'd always possessed a vehement hatred for overly talkative people, and this feeling was amplified ten fold by the fact that this 'person' was a wolf, a creature he'd never cared for. He took a deep breath and turned away coldly.

"I see, an unfriendly fellow. It stands to reason I suppose, all nobles are like that, but you really should hear me out. Aren't you curious what your dear ancestor is cooking up? I could tell you if you ask me real nice." Tenmei said with fake tenderness, happy to see a look of interest cross the young man's face.

"Do you know where I can find the Book of the Moon?" Darcia asked with guarded interest, not certain how far to trust what he heard. Tenmei wiggled his ears at the question, a broad grin crossing his face.

"'Do I Know where you can find the Book of the Moon'," He mimicked disdainfully, "What a wonderfully intelligent question, and here I'd figured you for a hormone driven child." He meant the last part as a joke, not expecting the icy pallor that crossed Darcia's face when he heard it.

"Talking about that which you do not understand," Replied Darcia coldly, "Is a good way to die."

"Naturally I didn't mean to offend you." Tenmei said, bowing regally. "Rather, I think we can be of great benefit to each other. See, your grandfather's holed himself up in the disgusting laboratory of his with the most beautiful smelling woman I've ever encountered. I want to get close to her again...I'm not certain why... but that frigid wench won't allow me in. So the deal I'm prepared to offer is this: Let me into your grandfather's lab, and I'll give you the book of the moon."

Darcia considered this for a moment. Not even he could enter that place, nor had he any desire to help a wolf, but he couldn't help but hope that the answer he sought might be there. He rubbed his temple placidly, before finally sighing in defeat.

"Very well..."


	6. For every question an answer

Note: Wow… I can't believe I let more than a year pass without updating this thing! The simple truth of the matter is I kept trying to write on, but I couldn't get the words to synchronize as well as I wanted. I finally made a commitment to it as it now stands. It's been so long that the majority of my old fans probably aren't around anymore :'( All the same, I really want to finish this story. Enjoy my sixth chapter!

**Chapter 6: From Every Question an Answer; From Every Answer A Question**

With a slow, rhythmic motion Darcia cut apart a portion of the roasted meat before him. He then impaled the small piece with his fork and brought it to his lips, chewing patiently.

"You really are just as dainty as a woman! Makes you stick out like a sore thumb in a place like this, though!" Tenmei barked in delight. They sat in the corner table of an old tavern. The building was perpetually crowded with an unending assortment of drunks, prostitutes and Na'er-do-wells. The overcrowding was so tremendous a problem, in fact, that one would have difficulty traveling from the entrance to the bar without possessing enough strength to push through an almost solid wall of sweat and muscle. Likewise, the floor was scuffed and covered with an inch-thick layer of dust. The tables and chairs were ineffectively repaired following their breaking in a countless number of brawls, and wobbled forebodingly when a person saw fit to rest on them. To say this place was unappealing would be as grievous an understatement as saying that a decent from the peak of a cliff was painful.

"I mean," Tenmei continued, "I say I'll help you if you let me see that woman again. How do you respond? You tell me to follow you on some long-winded track to a city at the very edge of your territory; then, not satisfied with simply forcing me on this sadistic pilgrimage, you proceed to travel to the most dank, foulest smelling slum the city could possibly have to offer and walk right into a bar. What's the point of coming here, if I may ask?"

"This place has always provided me with a sense of comfort. Rooms full of self-absorbed shadows making a desperate play at looking merry. They belong to the lowest echelons of society, yet in this one trait they are the same as me." His deep blue eyes took a sad expression. "Moreover, It is so loud here that people can't help but mind their own business."

"Tsk, I can't argue that point." Tenmei said, bearing a scowl that revealed his human form's sharp teeth. He shot a glance around. The volume of the room was so intense that you had to lean your head in the direction of whomever you wished to talk to and then shout in your loudest voice if you wanted to be heard. It was an environment that made eavesdropping impossible.

"Tell me, why do the wolves seek paradise?" The question caused Tenmei to pause for a moment, surprised by the change of subject. All the same, he recomposed himself quickly, shutting his large green eyes and turning up the corner of his mouth into a matter-of-factly grin.

"What a ridiculous question! Like asking a creature why it breathes. It's simply a part of our nature. Things have been that way for us since antiquity, I guess."

"But do you know what paradise is? Is it a location? What do you have to gain by finding it?" It wasn't as though Darcia honestly gave a damn about wolves or their motivation. His only wish was to find the roots of his troubles, and it so happened that they had become intertwined with paradise.

"Just like a human to attempt to analyze our problems by their standards." Tenmei began to laugh, a deep and soothing sound. "Why? What? How? These are questions upon which a human being is dependant. It's because of your sentient nature. You can call 'free will' a blessing all you want, but in the end having a free will just means leading a life in search of a purpose. You question your environment because you're desperate to find out what it is you were born to accomplish; whereas a wolf has all his answers burned into his instincts. There isn't any need for a question, we just follow our nose until the desire we were born with is sated!"

"So then, what need have you for my grandfather and his flower woman?" Darcia asked dispassionately. He was trying to mask the anger he felt at the wolf's arrogance.

"Well, you see, that's the rub. Turns out that free will isn't without its advantages either. A wolf may know what he needs, but he lacks the ability to create something that wasn't already there. The technology of the nobles truly is awe-inspiring. When I first heard that the wrinkled old bastard had been commissioned to birth the flower maiden I couldn't help but laugh. As it turns out, though, he succeeded completely. No matter how hard I try I can't remove that woman or her scent from my mind!" He looked up at the ceiling as he said this, a dreamy expression crossing his pale face.

"Commissioned? By whom?"

"The ancient one- a seventy year old white wolf named Odin. He is one of the four keys needed to open paradise. The flower maiden is the second. Third is the moon and fourth is the location. At least I think that's how it goes. I never much cared about paradise, honestly. Just give me a place were my flawless beauty can be appreciated as it was meant to be and I'm as happy as a lamb!"

"So then, my grandfather is conspiring with the wolves." Upon hearing this, Tenmei slammed his fist against the table, causing it to rattle violently. By some miracle it remained intact, and after a moment the conversation continued.

"He isn't conspiring with us; he is being manipulated by us! Odin personally delivered the book of the moon to him a half-century ago. That was when he felt the noble was most susceptible."

"Fifty years ago?" Darcia paused to reflect for a moment. He was little more than a child at the time. "So then, it happened following the death of my father?"

"Exactly! Confronting the death of his son made poor old Darcia come to terms with his own mortality. You nobles are a long-lived bunch, but even still you possess a human fear of death. When your grandfather heard about paradise he thought it to be a secret to eternal life, and therefore began to construct our flower maiden. All of this was Odin's idea. He's a rather crafty bastard, you see."

"Is it possible for a human to enter paradise?"

"I certainly hope not!" Tenmei snarled. "In any case, I've heard that humans who try to force open the gates of paradise find themselves cursed by it."

Darcia leaned back in his chair. It was an action that turned out to be too brave, as the back of the chair collapsed and fell to the floor. Darcia rushed to readjust his balance, his arms waving in the air. Tenmei couldn't help but smile at this.

"You're much more amusing than the average human, young Darcia. Not many can blend intelligent conversation with physical comedy so convincingly! Pray tell, are you done asking questions?" Tenmei ran a hand through his hair as he spoke, a habit he had possessed since the first time he had ever taken a human form.

"Yes." Darcia said, giving him a bitter look. "I shall need the book of the moon to clear what remains of my confusion."

"Magnificent! Does that mean you're finally ready to show me that woman?" Tenmei asked. Darcia said nothing, but shook his head in reply. "Wonderful! I like you more all the time."

The two stood at last and began pushing through huddled bodies to the door on the other side of the room. Darcia gave a sigh of relief when he finally succeeded in opening the door and pushing himself out into the cool autumn air. He had much to think about now, and a long walk home to ponder in. The two travelers left the city in silence.


	7. The forsaken lover and the fallen snow

_PRE STORY NOTE: Well, I don't really have an excuse for waiting two years to update a story that I started four years ago. a lot's happened. I graduated high school, joined the navy, left the navy, spent a tour of time as a homeless person, and reestablished myself! Anyways, I've never once stopped wishing that I'd finished this story . So even though most of its fans are gone now, I wholly intend to resume it. Should anyone remember it and see it now I thank you for your patience._

**Chapter 7: The forsaken lover and the fallen snow**

Winter's first snow had come at last, bringing with it a blanket of pristine white which covered the plains beside Hamona's castle. The unbroken color made the outside world seem a massive ocean, and the pair of sisters who ruled over it enjoyed the spectacle from afar. They sat on the outer balcony near their ramparts, regarding one another with a tender kindness that neither of them truly felt.

"How long has it been, Hamona-dear? Since we saw him last?" Jagara asked earnestly, bringing a glass of blood-red wine to her lips. The younger girl's eyes swelled with tears at the question.

"Almost four months, I believe. I fear for his safety." She kept her gaze on the field before her, not wanting to see the sadistic delight in her sister's face.

"There's no need for that. He's one invincible young man." Jagara replied, the corners of her mouth curling into a smile. "But he's also young… perhaps he just grew weary of you, yes? Some other girl caught his attention, I'll bet. It was bound to happen. Even noble men are quick to abandon their promises when more appealing prey approaches."

"Darcia is not that kind of person. He would only keep me away if he feared for me." She tried to say this with confidence, but her sister's words caused her face to twist in agony, and the tears she'd been holding back started to flow. Jagara savored each tear as it appeared, tiny victories in her battle against the woman she hated. Oh! How she wished Hamona would look up at her, would see the reflection of her broken self in Jagara's eyes!

"All men are that kind of person. We girls lead a tough existance. To men we are sport, and to other women we are competition. One could almost say that the only thing you'll ever be to anyone is an object of lust and hatred. That pretty face of yours is a darker curse than anything you could ever endure."

"You're wrong!" As Hamona said this her body went rigid with anger. Her visage implied that she wished to say more, but her voice was too chocked with tears for her to utter another sound.

"Am I?" Jaggara began again. In truth, Darcia's disappearance troubled her deeply as well. She had never been certain whether her feelings for him were truly love, or if she merely desired him 

because he belonged to her sister. Either way, she wanted him and would posess him at any cost. If it was out of competition that she longed for him, she could simply dicard him once the thrill had expired.

With her long, elegant fingers she reached over to her sister, gently stroking her golden hair away from her eyes, and wiping the tears from beneath them. Her voice became more gentle and understanding.

"Perhaps I am. We've known him our entire lives, haven't we? Inseperable since birth. Why don't you go and ask him yourself? "

"I've tried often. He's always away, and our secret meeting places have gone forgotten since the summer."

"His servants told you he was away?" Jagara's question was met with a slow nod from Hamona "And you let it rest at that, knowing he's trying to hide himself? How unlike you… maybe you truly are afraid to see him in another woman's arms?" Hamona shook her head again, drawing her cloak about her shoulders as though suddenly becoming aware of the cold morning air. Snow had begun falling once again, slowly and gently. For a moment the two sisters sat in silence, allowing the descending powder to streak their golden hair with white. The flakes melted on their skin, the cold refreshing and the world around them beautiful and fragrant as only the winter can be. Hatred and sorrow were forgotten for just that moment, and they were true sisters: women of common blood being swept away in the endless glamour of nature.

The blanket of snow before him gave way to his footfalls as he charged. Darting ahead with a haste impressive despite his years, the old wolf made his way toward the keep of Darcia. His eyes were a shade of brown so dark they almost appeared black, and his white fur was so clean and immaculate that he seemed a specter as he ran against the flurry of the weather. Humans nearby would likely have paid him no special attention, but all the rest of nature knew the significance of his presence. The woods around him grew silent as he approached. Deer and moose fled, squirrels and birds sat silently in their trees all of the natural world bowed in reverence as he passed. The great white wolf was here! Odin, the keeper of paradise, had emerged to the outside world for the first time in decades.

"The blood moon is approaching." He thought simply as he charged. "Tenmei has proven himself less than reliable. If he does not oversee the Noble Lord Darcia as I commanded he may well jeopardize our path to Heaven."

A feeling of great momentum seemed to swell throughout the land of Darcia, fluid motion that could not be stopped or controlled. Neither the elder, nor his grandson could escape from this merciless tide: from this destiny that now lay in wait for them like a snare. The approaching wolf was a beacon of calamity for all the actors in this performance.


End file.
